she blows outta nowhere, roman candle on the wild
by clarembees
Summary: cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done/i need to be youthfully felt, cause, god i never felt young - or instead of rayna pulling deacon through, it's saide {post mid-season finale and beyond}


_a/n: i originally wrote this as a response to a monthly challenge on a board that i write for, and for a friend of mine who loves nashville as much as i do. i figured i would post it here, cause what the hell? this takes place after the mid-season three finale, but definitely doesn't contain any spoilers or take the path i know the show is going to take._

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><p><strong>*~*she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild*~*<br>(laughing away through my feeble disguise)**

**_she's gonna save me,_**

**_call me "baby,"_**

**_run her hands through my hair_**

**_she'll know me crazy,_**

**_soothe me daily_**

**_better yet she wouldn't care_**

**_we'll steal her lexus,_**

**_be detectives,_**

**_ride around picking up clues_**

**_we'll name our children jackie and wilson,_**

**_raise 'em on rhythm and blues_**

**_- "jackie and wilson" - by hozier_**

_Undiagnosed cirrhosis of the liver, elevated blood cell count, strongly leading toward cancer._

The dullness of the sentence thud's against his poor bruised and beaten heart, over and over, like the sound of a waning steel guitar playing the sad refrain of an old Hank Williams Sr. tune. His jaw is still clenched a deadly, almost teeth gnashing tight, from demanding that Scarlett keep this to herself.

Behind his eyelids, which have closed, he can still see his niece's lips quivering, her big eyes pleading, and his fingers flex – like they're going to reach for the phone – but he pulls them back. He knows she'll tell him – in that soft trill of her sweet magnolia tone – he isn't a burden to anyone, that Maddie should know and so should Rayna, also he should probably tell Juliette which means Avery's gonna know and then there's Gunnar... _Fuck_, he hisses, throat dry and of its own accord his head shakes, decision made.

He ain't tellin' a soul about this.

This is his own damned fault, anyway.

Not his fucked up child hood with a mentally ill mother, an over-bearing father, a sister going down the same path as their mother. Not even Rayna can be blamed for this. He was like this – _an alcoholic_ – long before he _ever_ saw those brown sugar flecked hazel eyes, strawberry blonde waves, crooked nose and freckles spread across rosy cheeks. He was like this before he ever tasted her lips, touched her skin and fell so damned hard and fast into a love that made him believe rock bottom could never exist again.

A bitter laugh escapes, because, if _anything_ told him that rock bottom existed it was being in love with Rayna Jaymes. She showed him rock bottom existed more times than she didn't. But it never mattered, no matter how many times she knocked him down, bruised and battered his already damaged heart, he came back for more, like a dog begging for table scraps, for just a scratch behind the ears or a tickle of its tummy, and he ate up whatever scraps she gave.

_Pathetic_ whispers the dark tone he's so familiar with, the dark tone that's lead him to crawl into many an empty whiskey bottle over the past twenty years, and the urge to break glass rushes through him like a vibrant red that clouds his vision, just like in the hotel room in Memphis.

Instead, he just slumps further into his wonderfully worn recliner, exhaustion taking over his weary body and the last thing he recognizes is Scarlett brushing his hair back and then everything goes dark.

* * *

><p>Sadie can <em>still<em> feel the sting of the humiliation as her mind plays back what happened with Pete. She thought she had left him behind when she _finally_ found the courage to run, that she'd never have to feel that way again.

She clutches at her guitar like a little girl would clutch at a pink blanket, desperate and fingers curling to the point that her knuckles go white. Except she's not fearful of imaginary monsters and there are no parents to prove to her that it's all in her head and then kiss her gently on the forehead and whisper everything's okay.

All there is, is her and the cold shock of fear rushing through her veins, making her bones _literally_ turn to ice, so she's immobile and waiting. Waiting for the harsh slap across her face, waiting for her hair to be clenched in between fingers, then yanked so hard her neck twists violently, then it's a vicious kick to the stomach and she's doubling over, tears clouding her vision, so she doesn't see the punch that always comes after the kick.

Then her body just goes limp, not even managing to curl in on itself, in the most feeble attempt at protection and all she can do is whimper, "please," until even the whimpers fade and it's just Pete's growling and hissing as he taunts, **"****You ain't nothin' without me, Sadie-girl. Nothin'."**

And it's _true_, isn't it? She is nothing without him, isn't she? _"__Can't Stop"_ her big CMA show-stopper isn't_really_ that different than the songs they used to write together, is it?

The tear that makes it's slow journey from the corner of her eye turns into a flood before she even knows what happened, and once again, she's falling into a fitful sleep brought on by tears.

* * *

><p>Scarlett's fluttering around the house like a hummingbird. Deacon can feel himself growing dizzy just watching her, as he slowly sips at the tea she made. Coffee, he noticed, has apparently been annexed from his kitchen. They'll talk about it later.<p>

"You feelin' okay?" He questions, leaning against the doorway, eyebrow faintly arching.

"Just fine!" She pipes up, brushing wisps of curls off her face, and smiling so bright he thinks he's gonna break her face.

"You wanna rethink that answer, honey."

Instantly, his little pixie of a niece deflates, and he feels his heart puncture. He hates how her little shoulders slump, how her clear eyes grow cloudy and tulip lips start to quiver. He just hopes none of her runnin' around has to do with Gunnar cause he ain't equipped to handle his own heartbreak, let alone someone else's.

Also, cirrhosis be damned, if that floppy haired kid did somethin' to Scarlett's too big and too precious heart again, like, decidin' to go off and chase after Zoey, he'll punch him in the face.

"Gunnar do somethin'?" It's hard to hide the grit and growl in his tone.

_"__Gunnar?"_ His name is shrill and there's a hiccup that follows as Scarlett's eyes grow a fraction wider, which means she's lying. Gunnar ain't got nothin' to do with her running around.

"Might as well just spit it out, Scarlett. I'm gonna get it out of ya, one way or another."

"Raynacalledoffthewedding."

"Gonna have to slow down a little there, honey, so I can understand whatever the hell it is you just said."

"Rayna called off the wedding."

Deacon blinks, once, twice, three times.

_Rayna called off the wedding. Rayna called off the wedding. Rayna called off the wedding._

He feels like he should be moving, no more like running, running toward the door, then hopping into his truck and driving – fuck the speed limits – to the home he dreamed of living in with Maddie and Daphne for so long, but he isn't. He feels like his feet have been locked into cement, that the concrete as cooled and he's standing in cinder blocks, immobile, just staring.

Relief, at least, should be washing over him. Fuck, he should be drowning in relief if not love. His poor little heart, kept prisoner inside his chest, should be pounding recklessly, ready to burst from its cage, but it's just beating. Normal and steady. Not crazy and wild, hard and rushed like it always does whenever he thinks of Rayna.

"Deacon?" Scarlett's tone is fearful, as she approaches him slowly, like one would approach a spooked horse, scared one false move will make them bolt.

He expects to feel like the sun – _warm and golden_ – is rushing through his veins, almost as if he could fly, because Rayna called off the wedding, but there's nothing. There's nothing because what's there is the truth; Rayna may have called off the wedding, but that doesn't mean she chose him. It doesn't mean she's going to show up on his doorstep, looking too good to be real, strawberry blonde waves tumbling down slim shoulders, brown sugar flecked hazel eyes open and honest, her heart ready to let him all the way in.

It just means she's not marrying Luke.

"Deacon?" Scarlett tries again.

"I'ma go for a walk." Is all he says, setting his cup down and going into the entry way to grab his jacket.

"Just a walk?"

"Just a walk."

* * *

><p><em>Run. Run. Run. Run. Run.<em> But suddenly run turns into **you can run, Sadie-girl but you can't hide. You can run, Sadie-girl but you can't hide. You can run, Sadie-girl but you can't hide.**

Her legs are pumping as hard as they ever have before, her breath ragged and shallow, her heart struggling to keep up with the fear coursing through her veins. Her stomach churns violently and there's the burn of bile on her tongue, bitter and tinged with shame because here she is CMA New Artist of the Year and she's running from her ex-husband who is trying to get her under his thumb again.

Someone's going to recognize her and realize she's not out for a morning jog, but she's literally running for her life and then they're going to see Pete who's hot on her heels, and it'll be all over twitter and facebook and everyone will see her for what she really is.

**Nothin'. **

**Remember, Sadie-girl, you ain't nothin' without me. Nothin.'**

Solid hits her instantly, as her momentum as suddenly stopped. She's hit something solid. And she wrenches back, heaving out, _"__No!"_ in a breathless gasp.

"Whoa, there, steady now." She hears, the voice is low and gruff, a slow drawl and not the angry, harsh whip of a growl she expects. The broad fingers that close around her wrists, aren't digging in with blunt nails, hoping to draw blood and squeeze until her skin goes white, they're gentle – just barely touching – and easy, thumbs drawing soothing circles and slowly her eyes open.

Immediately she recognizes those eyes staring back at her. How could she not? She followed Rayna Jaymes' career from the very beginning. And the person who owned those beautiful grey eyes staring back at her right now had been right by Rayna's side through it all.

"H-hey, D-deacon," She stutters on a shaky breath, backing away on equally shaky legs that feel like they're about to give out any second.

"You okay, darlin'?" He's studying her, critically, with those beautiful grey eyes that she'll never admit she's dreamed of since she was sixteen back in Blacksburg, Virginia, and she feels herself shrink when suddenly a hand is clamped down on her shoulder, blunt nails digging in so hard she has to bite back a shriek, while the stench of Copenhagen fills her nose.

"You're _just fine_, ain't ya, Sadie-girl?" Pete snarls right in her ear.

"Just fine." She manages through clenched teeth because the pain is searing into her veins like a branding iron.

"Just fine, huh?" Deacon's tone is skeptical and she knows her eyes are pleading, that she has practically stenciled into her pupils, just go away, if you go away, things will be easier for me, please just go away.

"Yup, she's _just_ fine." Pete punctuates his lie with a sloppy kiss to her cheek and she can't help but flinch, a move she knows she'll pay for later. With a kick, a fist, a slap maybe even a bite. But she'll pay for it, and her stomach lurches while the bile rises, its taste stronger on her tongue.

"Funny, she doesn't seem all that fine to me. So, why don't you go on and let go? Don't make me ask twice."

"Don't make you ask twice? Whatcha gonna do old man, beat me with your cane?"

The laugh Deacon lets out is hollow as he shakes his head. "I gotta _mean_ left hook, _kiddo_," Is spoken with disdain as his left hand balls into a fist. "And I doubt you want your pretty face to get wrecked, boy, so like I said don't make me ask twice."

Pete growls, but doesn't move toward Deacon, his hand still clamped hard on Sadie's shoulder and blunt nails still digging in. It's Deacon who moves forward, closing the gap between himself and Pete and taunts, "Too afraid to pick on someone your own size, huh, big man? Is that what it is? I ain't gonna run scared and cry, so you won't come at me?"

Sadie shrieks when Deacon grabs Pete by the collar and then pushes him to the ground. "You wanna hit somebody?! Hit me! You lookin' for a fight?!" He wrenches himself free of his jacket, tossing it to the ground. "Well, ya got one! I'm right here!"

Sadie doesn't know what else to do except wrap her arms around Deacon's shoulders and whisper, as she drags him away from Pete's prone body, "You don't want to do this. He's not worth it. He'll press charges, you'll go to jail..." Her whispering fades into nothing but broken sobs, as everything finally catches up with her, and the tears start to flood from her eyes while her body shakes violently.

Her face is being cradled by calloused palms and rough thumbs are brushing away tears. "Hey, now, you ain't gotta worry about me, darlin'. My niece does that enough for the both of us. Ain't nobody goin' to jail... Well..." He looks down at Pete before his grey eyes turn back to her. "He just might be, if that's what you want. I ain't gonna tell you what to do. It's your call, darlin'. You do what you want. You won't get any judgment from me. Just take care of yourself, okay?"

"I just want him to leave me alone." It's a broken whisper as she looks at him with sage colored eyes wide and fearful, like, a doe and the next thing she knows she's being folded into his arms, head resting against the solid feel of his chest where she can hear his steady heartbeat and smell sandalwood and leather.

She's _never_ smelled anything better.

* * *

><p>Deacon knew this was going to happen sooner or later, Rayna showing up on his doorstep. They couldn't avoid each other forever. They never could avoid each other at all. Even though for the past fifteen years they had tried.<p>

He sighs heavily, unable to hold it back, because his body has gotten so weary. And he can hear Scarlett's voice in his ear, _"__Deacon you __**have**__ to check yourself into Vanderbilt. You're getting worse, and I am __**not**__ watching you just wither away into nothing! I won't let you! Deacon, please!"_

Her sobs and hiccups echo in his head, and his heart lurches forward and his stomach churns, and he feels like he's going to throw up.

_"__Deacon..."_ There's his name falling from those lips he's tasted in every possible way, and there's nothing, no pounding reckless of his heart, no sunny warmth flooding his veins, there's just a hollowness because as high as Rayna gets him, she gets him just as low. It's a vicious cycle and he can't do that again.

"I gotta tell you somethin', and it ain't what you think. It ain't _even close_ to what you think."

"Before you say anything, I just, need to tell you..." Her brown sugar flecked hazel eyes are pleading and warm, and he's seen her like this so many times, and every time before would fall onto his knees and just accept her back with open arms, as if she hasn't hurt him more than any person in his entire life, including both of his parents who did nothing but hurt him.

"Rayna, just stop, okay? I already know about you callin' off your wedding to Luke, and I don't want to hear it. You ain't here to tell me to go get your ring and have us run off to the justice of the peace to get hitched. Sides Juliette and Avery already beat us to it. Did ya get 'em a wedding present? Cause I did. It ain't much, just a toaster cause apparently he ain't got one."

"Are we _really_ talking about this? About what you got Juliette and Avery for a wedding present?"

"Are you gonna tell me to go get your ring..." Deacon stopped as he started hacking, which turned into coughing violently and finally spitting up blood, which caused Rayna to drop to her knees as he fell to his own, his body heavy and his vision swimming, until all he heard was the echo of Rayna screaming his name, "Deacon!"

* * *

><p>When Sadie walked up to Deacon's house, after getting his address from Avery, the last thing she expected to hear from his niece Scarlett was that he was in the hospital. Horror curled along her spine, thinking, maybe that Pete had somehow gotten his hands on Deacon and put him in the hospital.<p>

Swallowing thickly, she pushed her hair behind her ears with shaking fingers, and asked softly, "Is he okay?"

She wasn't surprised by the arch of the platinum blonde's brow. "I didn't know you knew my Uncle Deacon..."

"I don't, not really, anyway... It's just, um, we... He..." Sadie ran her fingers through her hair as she shuffled her feet, eyes becoming downcast before raising them again. "He helped me out a little while ago, and I just wanted to tell him thank you. That's all. So, um, is he okay? I would really like to tell him thank you. I really would. If that's okay."

"Deacon doesn't really like his business bein' known, but I guess if you wanna thank him as bad as you seem to, I could tell you what's goin' on. I'd tell you not to tell him it was me who told you, but he'd never believe you if you told him it wasn't me." She laughs and it sounds like bells, literally, which makes Sadie smile just like the disarming smile she receives from the tiny platinum blonde whose braids are swinging back and forth. "And honestly if you ask me my Uncle needs all the friends he can get. You can also bring him some clothes, he hates the hospital gowns, and drop his guitar off along with some snacks. He's sick of me babying him, so maybe you could do it for me? Make sure he's doin' all right? And like report back or somethin'?"

"I can't imagine Deacon takes to well to being babied." Sadie mused, laughing.

"He really doesn't. Just let me go ahead and get his stuff ready, it'll take a minute, but c'mon in don't just stand there. Would you like some tea? If you like coffee, there isn't any, cause of Deacon being sick..."

"Sick?" Sadie interrupted, her brain catching on the word, as her blood grows cold inside her veins.

Scarlett sighs as she turns around, sadness clouding over her soft features, her tulip lips becoming down turned. "He's got cirrhosis of the liver, that went undiagnosed, and is making his blood cell count rise but they're getting it under control. He got lucky that it didn't turn into cancer. For a while it was touch and go with that, but ultimately it's just a high blood cell count that they're workin' on. I'm so thankful it's not cancer, honestly," Her eyes brighten briefly then they fall again. "I don't know what I'd do without Deacon."

"I'm glad to hear he's going to be okay. I really am."

"A lot of people are. More than he'd like to admit or think. But he's stubborn that way. Always claiming he wants to be alone, but he really doesn't. At least you'll be there today. His daughter Maddie's gone back to school and can't be there as much as she was during the winter break. Not that she wouldn't skip school to stay with him, but neither he nor Rayna would have any of that."

* * *

><p>"Knock, knock..." Sadie felt awkward as she approached Deacon's hospital room.<p>

"Sadie?" His voice was rough, like he'd been asleep, his eyes blinking blearily as they came into focus.

Even though his voice was rough, it still held that slow drawl, and a spark rushed over her skin, making goosebumps appear. She'd always been a sucker for his Mississippi twang. So much smoother than Pete's rough Virginia growl.

"Don't get mad at Scarlett..." She starts, but he quickly interrupts, waving a hand with a heavy sigh in his tone, "Course she sent ya. Who else would? Can't show up to my room without somethin'. Lemme guess some kinda tea, clothes, my own towels, but no coffee?"

"Sorry, no, coffee but what she doesn't know..." He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides, and her heart picks up speed. "That mean you're gonna get me some coffee?" In an instant his eyes are pleading and she swears if he asked for the moon, she'd give it to him. Cause how could any woman refuse those eyes? So beautiful and grey mixing with blue and a little hint of green.

"We'll see..." She sing-songs, and he's laughing again, which quickly turns into a dry cough, but he waves her off when she reaches for him. "It's a hazard from bein' sick. Ya try to cough up a lung... Or I guess in my case, my liver."

"That's _not_ funny." She slaps at his chest, harshly, glaring.

"You sound like Scarlett. Sick men can't make jokes about bein' sick? Mayor Conrad pass that law while I've been stuck in here?"

"Guess this sick man doesn't _want_ his guitar..."

"Hold on there, darlin', you _never_ said Scarlett gave you my guitar. Which by the way, I shouldn't have to barter for, anyway cause it's _mine_. Got my name on the strap and everything. But I guess I'll barter with a pretty lady for anything including somethin' that's mine, so whatcha want? No more sick jokes?"

_Pretty_ filters through her mind and her heart flutters, so innocently, and she feels the goosebumps rush back. It happens again when she hands him the guitar and their fingertips touch.

He starts to strum the familiar chords to _"__Keep Comin' Back"_ and instantly she starts to sing, unable to hold back. They're harmonizing and when it's over, she can't help but giggle and she's smiling so wide she thinks her face might break, as she tells him, "I just lived my dream. Singin' with Deacon Claybourne. Wow."

"Darlin', you gotta get some better dreams. Or at least bigger ones. Ms. New CMA Artist of the Year." He teases, and she feels warm, like she's back in her parents' yard running around and smelling the daffodils and daises. It's beautiful.

* * *

><p>"I hear you're bustin' outta here." The voice is warm and there's that twangy Virginia sound that let's him no Sadie's in the doorway of his hospital room. He turns and, fuck, is the only word that comes to mind. Her sage eyes are twinkling in a teasing way, smooth lips are glistening with gloss and quirked just so, and there are her hips, slanted to one side, and she looks like she just stepped off the set of some photo shoot.<p>

Faded blue jeans hug those hips just so and there's a snug fitting tank top revealing the curves of her pert breasts that's underneath a plaid shirt tied at the stomach. Her hair falls in soft waves – chestnut hair shimmering – and her skin looks so smooth it's unreal.

His stomach tightens and there's a familiar ache that comes with lust curling at the very heart of him.

"Yeah." He manages and he's thankful he didn't swallow his tongue. Cause she can't come around lookin' like that. But at the same time she can come around lookin' like that any damn time she wants.

"Want some company? Or are you goin' it alone?"

"You offerin'?"

"Maybe." It's that sing-song tone and her eyes are sparkling, and she looks so good, he'll do whatever it takes to turn that maybe into a yes.

"What's it gonna take to turn that maybe into a yes?" He can't believe he actually asked cause he doesn't even know what they're doing, what this thing is that's been brewing since she came into his hospital room months ago, but it's different. Different than it's ever been for him. And it's all sunny warmth and golden rays, and it's better than it's _ever_ been.

"I got Avery Barkley producing my album, I guess..." She taps her finger to her chin, eyes lighting up like Christmas lights, different than when they're sparkling but she still looks so beautiful it hurts. "All my album needs is a duet with Deacon Claybourne. I haven't found any bigger or better dreams, so until I do..."

"I'm tellin' you darlin' you really gotta find bigger or better dreams, you really do." He shakes his head, laughing, but his eyes are sparkling and Sadie knows he's agreed because there are those adorable crinkles next to his eyes and he looks so good, she feels a perfect warmth hit in her in the pit of her stomach and she loves the feeling. And she _never_ wants to let it go.

* * *

><p>It's so natural writing with Deacon. She leans back against her couch, wriggling her bare feet, pushing her feet in his face and he pushes them away, laughing. His eyes haven't stopped crinkling since he stepped through the door to her home. She hasn't stopped smiling.<p>

He strums and she hums. There are scrapes of paper everywhere. Pizza boxes and bottles of cream soda are opened. He swipes sauce off her chin. She brushes back his hair. They laugh and tease and somehow in between the laughing and the teasing, there's a song.

It's just simple and easy, almost breezy, as if they literally are on a porch swing and it's swaying.

_just another sunday in the south/wanna put on some shenandoah/and crank it loud/you and me go fishin' in the dark/killin' time with restless heart/just another sunday in the south_

And when the last chord is strummed, grey eyes meet sage, and they couldn't stop even if they wanted to, and then they've pressed their lips together and they're kissing. It's warm and lovely and they're breathing for each other. Every time she breathes in, he breathes out and vice versa.

They break apart and while _everything_ has changed, it's like _nothing_ has changed.

* * *

><p>He's been like this before, tangled with a woman, dressed in nothing but his shirt strumming his guitar, head on his shoulder, but this time - with Sadie - there's no feeling of emptiness because the woman he's with isn't Rayna.<p>

* * *

><p>Sadie fits perfectly against him, chestnut waves, spilling everywhere her breathing easy and he holds back a laugh because she snores. This dainty little thing, the perfect picture of a Southern Belle and she snores.<p>

_"__I do not!"_ She's indignant and gasping, slapping at him, when he tells her all about her snoring and imitates the sound of a midnight train while they're in her kitchen. "You take that back! I do _not_ snore, and if I didn't snore it wouldn't sound like _that_!"

"Darlin', it was" His hands slide along the lithe length of her body, one reaching around her hip to cup her ass, the other finding purchase in molding its palm around her left breast. "This," He breathes the word against her neck, husky and warm. "That kept me up last night. Not any snorin'."

"Liar." But it's faulty, not strong and accusatory because he's wearing her down, easily backing her against the cabinets, so there's no room between their bodies. "Take it back." It's weak and he knows it laughing as he buses their noses together and says, "No."

"Take it back." She tries again, and there are his lips right against her neck, nibbling and biting, then soothing over with his tongue and she arches because she can't hold back.

"Snorin' like a freight train ain't the worst thing in the world. You look cute as hell all curled up in a ball and snorin' away, like nothin' bad's ever touched you. The way it should be. _Fuck_," He curses, and the hand that was on her breast is suddenly gone and banging on the cabinets. "You should be goin' after them bigger and better dreams like I'm always tellin' you. You don't want be tied down to me. I got nothin' for ya. Just a bruised and battered heart and a body that's just as bad. I got a daughter whose havin' a hell of a time bein' a teenager..."

"Don't tell me what I want." Deacon breathes in deep at the sight of Sadie's doe eyes, big and pleading, and he feels like an asshole. All Pete did was tell her what she wanted. She had to scratch and claw and fight to get away, and here he is telling her what she wants.

"I won't." It's a vow, not like till death due us part, but just as important.

"Cause I want you, Deacon, bruised and battered heart and all. And for the record," Her tone drops down, low and breathless, her eyes darken with lust turning a lush forest green. And there's her hand, warm and smooth around his length, which easily comes alive again. "Your body's just fine."

He feels like a teenager when he realizes they're on the floor of her kitchen, naked as they day they were born, his shirt having been tossed away somewhere and his jeans god knows where. But fuck has he ever been this happy? Ever?

He doubts it.

"Have you ever been this happy?" He asks, tugging on her ear with his teeth as he pulls her closer.

"Hell no." She answers and both of them start to laugh.

* * *

><p>Maddie is understandably wary upon meeting Sadie, but after the initial awkwardness goes away, it's easy for Deacon to see the two will become fast friends. He voices his concerns about being ganged up on and gets pieces of pizza crust thrown at him.<p>

Scarlett and Sadie have become close as well, which makes him as happy as Sadie being close with Maddie. Scarlett is so integral to his life, he couldn't imagine being with someone who didn't take to his niece. They bond over parasols and boots and half the time Deacon isn't sure if Sadie's coming to see him or his niece.

* * *

><p>There's <em>something<em> he can't explain coursing through his veins at the sight of Sadie by Juliette's bedside after she's just given birth to her little girl. She's cooing at the baby and stroking the baby's cheek and then she's holding the baby and her eyes are wide, almost fearful, and she's so adorable he should probably feel sick.

"Avery Rose, huh?" She laughs. "I bet you had to break out the claws for that one."

"Nope." Juliette purposefully pops the 'p,' smiling innocently while Avery shakes his head. Deacon laughs from his side and pats him on his shoulder saying, "It's just a hell of a lot easier when you give her, her way ain't it?"

"You have no idea, Deacon. You have no idea."

"Hey!" Juliette snaps just as Avery Rose begins to wail at the exact same time, making all four people in the room dissolve into laughter because it was just the most perfect moment.

"You ever think about havin' one of those?" It just tumbles out because she looked so adorable holding little Avery Rose, and her eyes go wide, and there's a flush of her cheeks and he has his answer; she has thought about it.

"I want a baby with your eyes." She murmurs, reaching to touch the edge of his eyes. "Especially the crinkles you get at the edges. I really like those. The baby should have those."

"They ain't crinkles darlin' those are wrinkles. Don't think babies get those till they're my age, so I guess you'll have to wait a while."

"That's my new big and better dream; a baby with your eye crinkles. Don't take it away."

She pouts and he laughs and that's how it starts, the journey to them having a baby.

* * *

><p>And it's nine months later and there's a baby; a beautiful bouncing baby boy whose eyes are grey, but no eye crinkles and Deacon tells Sadie as he leans in close, "They'll come, just around the time yours do, too," and she shoves him away saying, "I'm tellin' you Way's going to have eye crinkles he just has to grow into them. Give him some time."<p>

Deacon laughs while Scarlett coos and babbles at little Waylon Stone Claybourne.

_note: waylon is named after waylon jennings, iconic country music outlaw, and the song deacon and sadie wrote together is "sunday in the south" by miranda lambert_


End file.
